I tried on some shorts and went out to give it a test. In the sun, and in a sweet, brief moment of calm between gusts, it was almost OK. Then the wind exhaled with force again and, well, no. Back inside to put on tights, a long-sleeved shirt, and short-sleeves over it. The last time I had to cover up so much was for the Philly marathon in 2008. I hated it then, and I hated it Sunday morning. Any time that I have to wear tights or long pants, I automatically feel slower; but I was not going to be comfortable in shorts. I have toughness, but it has a limit. I might have been able to suffer shorts for a shorter race, but not for more than an hour and a half for a half-marathon.
As I hung around Rodney Square with B, waiting for it to be time to line up at the start, I wore a parka and another pair of pants over my tights, and the little Flyers stocking cap I use for running when it's cold enough to cover up my head.
I watched other runners mill about, dressed in pretty much the whole range of apparel: even more covered up than me down to split shorts and singlets. The wind whipped and swirled downtown, snapping flags and signs stuck to tables, and I half-thought about keeping the second pants on for the race and did not want to take off my parka. When it came time to line up, I took off the stocking cap too, only to tug it back on as the wind bit at my ears. I might get too warm wearing it, but I'd rather take it off and hold it at some midpoint of the race than get started and wish I had it. Second layer of pants came off and the tights barely helped, standing in the shade of buildings while the wind rushed around. Fortunately, the pre-race chitchat was kept to as much of a minimum as can be expected -- the anthemist didn't even drag out the song -- and a horn sent us off. (They quit using a cannon a couple/three years ago.)
I ran a little conservatively in the first 5-10K but it wasn't without help. The wind was brutal. When it was in my face, I struggled against it. When it was at the side, it tried to knock my legs together to trip me. When it was behind, it pushed such that it threw off my stride's rhythm. It would swirl around, so that one second it was pushing my face, then shoving me along. It sliced through my layers when it was in front of me, but when it was behind me, the sun was strong enough to make me feel too hot. I questioned what I was wearing only until rounding a turn and being hit with the wind again. It was difficult to pace, but I tried to maintain an effort around or under 7:30 as best I could.
It's pretty flat for much of the first 5 miles in the riverfront area, then heading back through the city and around up to Tower Hill we get the hill experience. The wind was in my face for the three mile uphill, and while a good portion of it was somewhat protected by trees around the road, it still was a formidable opponent. As I started up this section, I saw a man in a blue shirt up ahead with a familiar gait -- a former coworker, P, who runs the Caesar Rodney pretty much every year. In 2014 I passed him around mile 11 and was pretty happy to finish ahead of him (we usually finish around the same time, but he's usually a little ahead of me). He was 20 meters or so ahead of me, and I told myself not to let him get too far away. I very slowly, but very steadily gained on him along this uphill range, finally catching him at the top as we rounded Tower Hill. I left him behind as at that point, about 4 miles remain and most of it is flat or downhill. I usually decide at this point I can start to squeeze the pace, because there isn't much left to cover if I blow up in a mile or two. I squeezed, but the wind had other ideas during some portions of this remaining 4 miles, until the last two or so which is down the hill we had hiked up earlier. Going up that hill I ended up around 8 min/mi and I let myself fly (controllably) down the hill with the wind behind me to try to make up a few seconds; unfortunately, by here, the hay is mostly in the barn. I remember glancing back on the hill to see if a blue shirt was close behind, but I didn't see it. I hung on along the flat portion of the last half mile, noting a fire being fought in a house next to the course; there is a sharp turn to head up a long and steep hill to the finish.
I fought wind and wind-driven fatigue up this hill and P caught me with about 200m to go. I pushed, but was pushed at in return, and I could not catch him. This irritates me, and I vow that next year, I will do all I can to make sure I put him away if I pass him mid-race. But good on P to catch me and leave me behind on the windy finishing hill.
I finished just under 1:40-- 1:39:45, which is acceptable only considering how hard it was to run in those conditions. It was good enough for 4th in F35-39 age group, 14th female finisher, 80th overall. There was a five minute gap between 3rd and me in the age group results. I'm guessing a lot of people chose not to run this year. Last year, I ran 1:39:36 and was 6th in the same age group, 30th female finisher, and 142nd overall.
It's hard to judge where I am in terms of fitness based on the result of this race, but I will take it at face value and look at it as having some work to do. Later this month, I plan on running a 10-miler and in a month, another half-marathon. I am going to assume that by the end of April and in the first week of May, it won't be in the 30s anymore, and I will hope and dream of a day when the wind is not gusting 20, 30, 40 mph, and I should be better able to put my fitness into perspective based on the results of those races.
Caesar Rodney 2016: a job done.
